


The Quiet

by alixinsanity



Series: The Not So Secret In-House Relationship [1]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Attraction, Crushes, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Season 1, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension, resolved romantic tension eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alixinsanity/pseuds/alixinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Antonio goes looking for an arguement, he ends up getting more than he bargained for. Trying to deal with emotions which he had never anticipated having, Antonio doesn't know if he should bury them or run with it. </p><p>Takes place Season 1, starting before My Way up till the end of the Season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The only reason Antonio hadn't thrown his cup at the kitchenettes wall was because it still had coffee in and he'd been at the station since nine in the morning. It was now five AM and the combination of countless coffee's and the anger and frustration boiling in his blood was keeping him from catching a nap in an empty room like Halstead, Lindsay and Ruzek were doing. They'd already messed up once already that night, and Antonio wanted to throw the blame onto someone, anyone. He'd blame the coffee if he wasn't hankering after an argument to let out some of the pent up aggression; and he doubted he was exhausted enough to imagine the coffee arguing back. Drumming his fingers against the top of the table, and tapping his foot against the floor, Antonio growled in frustration. Resisting the urge to flip the table, he instead fisted his hands in his hair, bringing his head up to glare at the tiled ceiling, letting out another growl as he did so. 

"What's got you so worked up?" The gravelly voice that sounded from behind him was both the thing he wanted to hear the most and what he wanted to hear the least. 

"What happened today, that's on you." Antonio stood from his seat, leaving his cup abandoned on the table. The coffee couldn't argue with him, but in had walked a man who could. He moved to stand next to the counter where Voight was pushing the coffee machines buttons. His words caused the older man to pause in his actions, and Antonio watched as Voight turned slightly to level a glare in his direction. 

Voight crossed his arms against his chest, his frown increasing, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that because you insist on keeping secrets from the rest of us, it is your fault that the guy got away earlier." Antonio's voice raised slightly, his anger about the day's earlier events brewed to the surface, and he finally had a target he could vent them at. He knew deep down inside that it wasn't really Voight's fault, it was a combination of everything and anything. Pure dumb chance, and maybe a CI who got something slightly wrong with the Intel. No one could have known that the guy they were after was already nervous and cautious, and that he had a getaway car ready and waiting; Antonio was just pissed that they hadn't known about it. 

Hank Voight turned slowly at Antonio's words; no longer was he the man who could just show his emotions in a simple glare, but now he was the man who'd earned the reputation he had got on the streets. The rage was no longer hidden away behind an impassive look. "Hey don't go round here saying that I don't tell you things. I tell you all you need to know." 

Antonio made a derisive noise in the back of his throat; the forced snort mocking Voight's words. He remained unmoved as he watched Voight take a step forwards towards him, standing his ground as the space between them lessened. There was something in the air between them, a mix between frustration, aggression and something else; the combination sent a thrill down Antonio's spine. "Well maybe we need to know everything. I am so sick of you not telling us the shit that you don't want us to know about, cause guess what Voight, we end up finding out anyway." Antonio shot back his retort, taking a step towards Voight, lessening the space between them even more. He was in the other man's personal space judging from the way Voight's jaw visibly tightened. Antonio couldn't help the taunting smirk that formed on his face at the reaction he was getting, whether it was from the words said or from the invasion of space. 

"You want me to tell you things? Fine." Voight snapped, and before Antonio knew what was happening he felt Voight's hands grab his shoulders and pushing him backwards against the fridge. Fingers clutched tightly at the fabric of his t-shirt, as his head slammed backwards into the cold metal of the fridge door. Gasping, Antonio tried to speak but was cut off as lips crashed down against his, and a body was pushed up against his own. His eyes fell shut, as Voight forced his mouth open, biting at his bottom lip as went. The hands in his shirt kept him pinned hard against the fridge, and Voight's body against his own kept him caught. Antonio didn't know when his arms moved from his sides, but now his hands were clutching at the front of Voight's jacket pulling him even closer against him. The handle to the fridge dug into his back, but Antonio couldn't find it within himself to care about the discomfort, the only thing filling his head was the fiery kiss. The kiss was no longer one sided, but a battle between the two as they fought. Voight fighting to keep control, and Antonio fighting to gain some dominance in the kiss. His blood was boiling, and the man in front of him was simultaneously fanning the flame and calming the burn. 

He couldn't even begin to understand why he didn't want the kiss to end, but when it did Antonio felt empty. Staring into the eyes of the man in front of him, Antonio couldn't decipher the emotions that he momentarily saw shining in Voight's eyes. He couldn't think of what to say, and he didn't know what he should do. He knew that the normal response in this situation would be to throw a punch and he could see in Voight's face that was the reaction that he was expecting; but he couldn't even contemplate doing that. Antonio didn't want to punch him, and despite not starting it he had effectively been a willing participant in that kiss. He could have tried to push him away but instead he has subconsciously tried to pull Voight closer. That urge to pull him closer, turned out to not be as subconscious as Antonio had thought, as he watched Voight take a step backwards away from him. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." The apology fell from Voight's lips, and Antonio watched him walk out of the kitchenette as he tried to figure out how to move his own feet again. How was it that Voight could walk away, but he couldn't bring himself to move away from the fridge. Bringing his hand up to his face, he ran his thumb gently over his bottom lip as he bit the inside of it. He suddenly realized what had been mixed in the air that had been between himself and Voight before the kiss. Hidden alongside the mix of frustration and aggression had been an emotion that had been hiding so well for god knows how long; Lust. 

Rubbing his hands down his face, before clasping them on top of his head, Antonio let out a large exhale of breath. "Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finally got round to starting the exploration into the beginning of Antonio and Voight's relationship. I am actually really looking forwards to developing this backstory, and also exploring Laura and the reason she left Antonio cause the show's reason was missing far to much. From the episodes I've watched they really haven't explained what caused a supposedly happy marriage to shift into a very acrimonious divorce; there is a lot more to it than just cause he didn't want to quit his job. 
> 
> Okay so this chapter is short, but it's merely the prelude. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer.
> 
> By the way there is not gonna be any full on cheating in the fic, I think both the characters are far to loyal to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

When Antonio had got promoted to Investigation from Vice, he thought he had everything in the world; the job of his dream, an amazing partner, and even greater wife and two beautiful kids. Then it all changed the moment Hank Voight stepped back into his life. Now with his back pressed against the fridge in the office kitchen, Antonio wondered when things had really changed between them. He'd barely registered the moment he stopped hating the man; he hadn't even realized when he'd started seeing Voight as a friend. No longer was he the man that he'd arrested on attempted murder, instead Voight was a man that regardless of the occasional layer of dirt, Antonio had come to respect and trust. 

He missed Jules; she'd know what to say to him right now. But then again, for the first few weeks when the Investigation team had consisted of only him, Jules, Voight and Olinsky, she'd been the barrier between Antonio and Voight when all they did was insult each other and make snide remarks. Jules had taken the brunt of Antonio's frustrations, listening to all of his rants and every muttered insult about Voight. But as soon as he'd stop ranting, she would grin mischievously at him, and ask something like 'Would you two just kiss already', or 'So when you gonna get a nice firm grip on Voight.' Her words were always intended as tongue in cheek, but maybe she'd seen whatever was forming between them before either he or Voight had. Antonio couldn't help but smile as he pictured Jules standing in front of him saying something ridiculous. She'd probably applaud them for finally kissing, regardless of how suddenly the moment came about. 

Hundreds if not thousands of thoughts and questions were rushing through Antonio's head, and none of them were any he was willing to question or answer standing in the middle of work with coffee being the only thing keeping him awake for the mid-life crisis that had just effectively forced it's way into his head. Was he even old enough to have a mid-life crisis yet; too young to be classed as a mid-life but too old to be classed as a quarter-life. A small thought in the back of his mind made Antonio panic. It was neither a mid-life or a quarter-life crisis, and Antonio instantly tried to ignore the truth. 

"Come on, we've got a lead on the guy... You okay?" Antonio turned towards the door at Olinsky's voice. 

Nodding in response, Antonio finally pushed himself away from the fridge door, "Yh, let's go catch this son of a bitch." 

*** 

Hank deposited the latest scumbag in the cage. He'd talked easily, almost willingly about how he'd killed two people, and how he'd planned on killing a third before Voight and his team had caught and cuffed him. Slamming the cage door closed, Voight all but stamped up the stairs to the office. He wanted to go home and have a drink, and if he chose to sit in his own self pity for an hour or so, that was his business and nobody else's. He had barely shut the door to his office and slumped in his desk chair before someone knocked at the door. "What?" He called impatiently from his seat, he was a mix of exhausted and severely exasperated and that concoction did not often bode well with socializing. 

As the door opened, Hank regretted indirectly letting them in the room. At least Antonio closed the door behind him; the blinds were drawn and everyone else in the team were busy trying to finish paperwork so they could all finally go home. Voight remained silent, merely watching with raised eyebrows as Antonio dropped into the seat on the other side of the desk. The silence in the room stayed for a moment, as the air between them stifled with awkwardness. Voight's gaze remained unchanged, as he continued to keep up his best attempt at his normally impassive façade. He just watched as Antonio shifted restlessly in his seat for a moment, before beginning, "About earlier-" 

"Don't." Voight cut him off, raising a hand in the air to further halt the words that threatened to continue falling from Antonio's mouth. 

"I just wanted to say it's all forgotten. No hard feelings." Antonio continued despite the attempt to stop the conversation from progressing further. There was nothing in the world Voight wanted to talk about less. He didn't know what had made him do it. He'd been wanting to for months, hell there had been something in the back of his mind back when Antonio had arrested him. 

He blamed the dirt that came with being a cop. Voight knew he was a dirty cop, and he knew that nearly everyone who worked for the Chicago Police Department was aware of it. But every cop had that figurative dirt on them; some wore it proudly and Voight could be considered one of those, and some cops tried to hide it in shame, doing everything by the book. But there was the rare few who knew the line between occasionally being dirty and playing by the book, and Antonio was one of those fews. If the dirt could be seen, Voight knew his hands would be black with it. But Antonio, his hands would be nearly clean, with the dirt only staining the tips of his fingers, and on his face would be two streaks of dirt on each cheek; the figurative marks that would state for the world to see that he was a good cop, but fuck with him and it would be the last thing you did before you got sent to jail. Voight knew that one from experience, he'd seen it first hand when Antonio had slammed him against the hood of a police car.

"Alright," Hank replied simply, hoping that Antonio would realize that now was no time for any talk about thoughts and feelings. 

"So bro's," Antonio persisted, leaning across the desk with an offered fist bump, and Voight couldn't help the way his lips raised on one side in a half a smile. 

"Bro's," he confirmed, accepting the fist bump, and huffing a small laugh at the explosion effect Antonio did afterwards, "Go on, go home. You did good today." 

Antonio nodded in response, standing from his seat he leaned over the desk to squeeze Voight's shoulder for a second before moving towards the door, with a simple 'Thanks', Voight was back to his own companionship. Rising from his seat, he moved to the window watching the city of Chicago moving around him. Rubbing his hand over his chin, the stubble from pulling an all nighter scraped at his hand, and immediately reminded him of the feel of Antonio's lips against his own. He had to hand it to himself; the only person who he'd had any attraction towards since his wife's death just so happened to be a married colleague. 'So much for no in-house relationships,' Voight mentally grunted to himself. He knew that if the situation came down to it, he would not be able to think entirely rationally if Antonio was put in a dangerous situation. Would he really be able to keep his emotions in check if Antonio had a gun pointed at his head in a hostage situation, or if he'd be able to react professionally if Antonio got shot. Voight knew the answer, and it was the exact reason why he had the no relationship rule. 

"Bro's", Hank toyed the word on his tongue, testing the way it flowed. 'Bro's' was something he could do, mainly because he had never intended to face his own attractions. It wasn't because Antonio was a he, it was because Voight was not going to ruin a family. He'd always tried so hard to help his CI's with whatever family stuff they had going on, that's why he gave out his cards to those who needed help, its why he got D'Anthony out of the gang and living with his aunt, and it's why all those years before, he took in a fifteen year old girl whose middle name should have been Trouble. 

*** 

Stepping into the threshold of his home, Antonio was met with twin shouts of "Dad's home", from Eva and Diago. Finding himself with an arm around both of his kids, he hugged them close in greeting, planting a kiss on both of their heads; looking up he saw his wife walking towards him and he paused for a second before kissing her in greeting. She didn't notice the pause but Antonio did, and it bothered him as he watched his family leave for work and school just as he got back home. He had never paused before kissing his wife before, and the only reason why he might of done then was the memory that was still fresh at the front of his mind. Shaking his head, Antonio scolded himself as he walked up the stairs to where both his shower and his bed was calling for him. He loved his wife, and he'd only paused cause of what had happened today, just because he had kissed Voight back didn't mean that he didn't love Laura. 

Antonio ignored the open door to the bathroom as he walked down the hallway; he couldn't guarantee that he'd stay awake for long enough to shower properly and he didn't particularly fancy falling asleep and falling over in the small cubicle. Mainly because knowing his luck it would inevitably be his own sister that would be the EMT on scene if he ended up with a concussion, Antonio decided to forgo the shower and instead stumbled into his bedroom. Stripping his clothes off down to just his underwear, he fell face first onto the bed, grumbling at the mountain of decorative cushions that were between him and his pillow. What was it with Laura and decorative cushions and throw pillows; they didn't do anything and they just threw them all straight on the floor when they were going to bed. Right now, Antonio was just attempting to sweep them off the bed as quickly as possible with as minimal effort. A small path was maneuvered in the pile of cushions, and Antonio crawled underneath the covers, kicking a random cushion onto the floor as he did. As sleep began to creep up on him, Antonio briefly wondered if Voight was the type to keep throw cushions on his bed. 

*** 

Walking up the stairs to the intelligence office, Antonio was surprised to see the space empty. No one was sat at the desks, and from what he could see there was nobody in the kitchen area either. Standing in the middle of the room, he spun around slowly taking in the area around him. There was a small envelope resting on the top of his desk, and Antonio frowned as he walked towards it. Picking it up, he turned the envelope in his hand to see if there was anything written on the exterior; finding nothing, he cautiously tore it open. A small scrap of paper fell out of the envelope with a single word written in a scrawly font. Kitchen. 

Antonio looked up from the paper, to see that he was already stood in the kitchenette, and there leaning against the fridge stood Voight. Crossing over to the other man, he immediately pulled Hank against him as soon as he was in reaching distance. Lips locked, and hands tangled in clothing as they grabbed at each other. Antonio felt himself being spun around, and once again he was being pressed back against the fridge, his legs opening slightly so that Voight could slot between them; their kiss remaining unbroken. He felt Voight's hands release from where they were gripping his shoulders, felt them glide slowly and sensually down his sides before coming to rest on his hips. The grip on his hips was strong, bordering on being mean, but there was something irresistible in the strength that Antonio knew would leave bruises. His own hands moved up to cup the back of Voight's neck, keeping him in the kiss. He allowed Voight to control the kiss, but he was the one controlling when it was going to stop. 

Antonio could only presume that Hank must have grown another pair of hands or something as he felt the buckle on his jeans loosening, and the zip being tugged down. Fingers slipped underneath the fabric, and he gasped as felt a hand wrapping around his hard cock. 

Gasping awake, Antonio felt his heart racing in his chest, his breath catching in his throat and his eyes blinked blurrily at the room around him. His cock throbbed hard as his hips inadvertently thrust against the mattress, and his body was burning hot underneath the sheets. Rubbing his hands over his eyes to remove the sleep from them, Antonio shifted onto his back so he could stare at the patterns in the ceiling plaster, pointedly ignoring the way his cock tented the sheets. He didn't know whether he should just ignore it completely, or wrap his hand around it. He huffed a laugh when he realized his mental dilemma was the equivalent to his cock at that moment. Did he ignore his feelings, or did he do something with them. Apparently whatever emotions his subconscious had been hiding for several months now wanted to be vocal. 

Grabbing his phone off of the bedside table to check the time, Antonio was surprised to find that it was now past midday and that what had awoken him from his dreams was a missed call from Voight himself. The call was from only minutes before, so Antonio hastily pressed the redial. 

"Voight." 

"Hey bro, what's up you called?" Antonio asked, ignoring the way his cock twitched at the husky voice on the other side of the phone. 

"Yh, we have a body. I need you to come in." 

"Okay, I'll just get dressed and drive over. Where is it?" 

"Your house is on the way, I'll pick you up. Be ready in ten minutes." The call ended at that, and Antonio was already pushing the sheets off of his body, sprinting towards the shower where he turned the water on ice cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a slight turn in smuttiness which I wasn't expecting it to go down. But yes Antonio is on the verge of having a little sexuality crisis which he doesn't want to consider. 
> 
> And we have a little insight into Voight, which was very interesting to write. 
> 
> Quick Question, what ages do you think Voight and Antonio are? I picture Antonio to be around 35/36ish which kinda says how good Jon Seda look's for his age.


	3. Chapter 3

Laura awoke to a soft moan coming from the other side of the bed. Rolling over to investigate the noise, she smiled as she watched her husband's sleeping face, his lips parting as he mumbled nonsense Spanish to himself before moaning softly once more. Sometimes she didn't know if she found Antonio's sleep talking adorable or annoying; a part of her did wish that he spoke his sleepy musings in English just so she could understand what he was saying. Call it inquisitive, or just being plain nosey. But even if she tried to she'd never be able to remember half of the Spanish that he's mumble, let alone try to pronounce it herself the next day. She was definitely intrigued about what Antonio was dreaming about tonight though, the words were punctured with small moans, and she could see his hips shifting occasionally underneath the sheets. 

This had been happening more and more often, for several weeks actually. She refused to bring up the fact that it coincided with the last time they had been intimate with each other. They had two children, and any parent would tell you that dry spells happened. But normally Antonio would have been trying to romance her after three or four weeks without sex; it had now been nine weeks and he'd shown no interest. Laura watched as her husband stilled for a moment, mumbling a word she couldn't translate into his pillow, "Sargento." 

Laura typically didn't mind not having sex for a while; but she was bothered by the fact Antonio didn't seem to be bothered about it. She'd tried to suggest it a few times over the past couple of weeks, but every time her husband had just fobbed off on an excuse that he was tired or he had a headache. The moans he made when he slept   
didn't help her confusion though. 

*** 

Antonio had kept his word to Voight, and hadn't mentioned the kiss they exchanged, and after a few weeks it still went unspoken between them. It wasn't leaving any awkward air between them, and as far as the other knew they acted like it was forgotten. They didn't distance themselves from each other, if possible they were actually closer than they were before. They would exchange countless pats on the back, shoulder nudges and small simple touches throughout the day. Antonio sometimes wondered why no one called them out on it; neither touched any of the rest of the team anywhere near the same amount. At crime scenes, they would be practically glued at the hip, whatever personal space they had seemed not to matter with the other person. At times, Antonio would find himself with his shoulder gently touching the center of Voight's back as they leaned into each others space; whenever he realized he was doing this, Antonio had to force his body to move an inch or two back. 

The sexuality crisis that he'd began experiencing after that kiss, still rang alarm bells in his head. But Antonio just reminded himself every time that he was an adult, and he was going to deal with the surprising new information about his own sexuality like an adult also. By which he meant he was going to do the exact same thing he did with his tax return every year; ignore it until he had to deal with it. 

Regardless of his own implemented ignorance, Antonio still ran that kiss through his mind most days, and at night his dreams were plagued with Voight. After the first day and that first dream, they had become a nightly pleasure that he'd secretly yearned for every time his head hit his pillow. Every morning he would look over at his wife and feel guilty, but he couldn't help the lust that filled his brain whenever he thought of Voight. It isn't cheating if it's just dreams in your head, he'd reason with himself. 

*** 

They were rolling around on a bed, their chests bare and their skin already slick with sweat as they gasped into each others mouths. They were both hard, and Antonio couldn't believe just how tight his jeans felt. Reaching between them to undo his zipper, he moaned when he felt Hank's hand immediately force its way underneath his boxers; fingers teasingly ran up and down his length. The lack of pressure made him groan in annoyance, as rutted against the hand tried to get something more from the light touch. He wanted it. He needed it. Voight had a smirk on his face that told Antonio that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he knew the reaction he was getting from it. Wrapping his legs around the back of Hank's thighs, Antonio flipped them over so that he was straddling Voight's hips. Pulling Hank's hand out of his trousers, he raised them so that they were resting above his head. Keeping hold of Hank's wrists with one hand, he grabbed his chin with the other as he forced his tongue into Voight's mouth. 

Antonio removed his hand from Voight's chin, opening his eyes as he continued to kiss the man beneath him. There was a pair of handcuffs on the pillow beside Voight's head, and he grabbed them, looping them around the back of one of part of the headboard before locking one of Hank's wrists between one of the cuffs. His eyes flew open at the sound, and Antonio barely had a second to cuff the other wrist before Voight could pull his arm back. Staring down at the man beneath his thighs, Antonio licked his lips as he leant backwards, putting more of his weight onto Voight's hips. He could feel Voight's erection trapped beneath denim against his own covered arse, and he ground backwards his lips falling open in a silent moan as he ground against it. 

His heartbeat was in throbbing in his throat, his moans filling the room as he placed his hands on Voight's shoulders and worked himself on the older man's cock. Antonio looked with hooded eyes at the way Hank was clasping the chain between the cuffs and he knew that if he could his hands would have been on Antonio's hips, guiding him with every thrust. But Antonio was the one in control this time; in complete control. 

"Antonio." His name fell from Voight's lips, but the sound wasn't right. Antonio ground backwards again, moaning softly at the feeling just as his name was said again. "Antonio!" The voice wasn't Voight's. 

"Antonio." He was shaken awake by his wife, the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Antonio blinked at the sudden bright light, wondering if the curtains had been closed the night before or if Laura had already opened them that morning. "Good morning baby," Laura practically purred into his ear sprawling herself against his back as he leaned over to check the time on his phone. Six in the morning; his alarm didn't go off for another half an hour. 

"Do you want me to take care of that for you?" He felt her hand move under the covers, resting against his hipbone and her fingers slowly beginning to worm their way underneath the fabric of the sweatpant's he'd worn to bed. He didn't know why he did it but he grabbed at her wrist, halting her from moving the hand any further. Pulling it out of his trousers and away from the erection that was tenting them, he threw the covers off of himself. 

"I need to go to work." Antonio muttered as he walked into the bathroom, not looking back at where Laura laid dejected on the bed. 

*** 

Antonio automatically presumed the worst when he saw Commander Perry walking up the stairs with the face of a man on a mission. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as the man walked past him, "Detective, join me in Voight's office." He tapped the picture that Sumner had just found against his hands, as a hundred possible reasons for the Commanders request flooded through his mind; there was only one possibility that stood out though. Somehow, someone had found out about whatever had happened between himself and Voight, and now if he walked into that office he would no doubt be walking into his demotion from Investigations. The Jules in the photograph stared up at him, and Antonio gritted his teeth in determination; if he was about to get demoted, the picture should stay here in Investigations where it belonged. Where Jules belonged. Placing it down on the edge of Sumner's desk, he walked towards the office. The walk was only a few short yards, but now with the near certain doom looming in front of him, the walk seemed like it miles. 

Stepping into the office, with the Commander glancing between Voight and himself, immediately put Antonio on edge. "What's up?" Voight questioned. 

"Nice job on that Rolo Ramirez thing." Antonio gripped the back of one of the chairs, letting out a small breath at the Commander's words. "Unfortunately you left a big loose end..." 

Antonio only half immersed himself into the rest of the conversation, as he tried to calm his nerves that he'd worked up by overreacting and presuming the worst. Then the air turned as the Commander's words tainted the air in the room. 

"You remember Pulpo right." 

Antonio looked up from where he'd been staring aimlessly at the corner of Voight's desk. He couldn't quite believe that Commander Perry had honestly just asked him if he remembered Pulpo; that man was going to haunt his memories for years. He could see in the corner of his eyes, Voights chair swivel slightly, and he could see the concerned look that was hiding in the older man's eyes. But the concern was doing nothing to control or calm the rage that was suddenly pumping through Antonio. "He kidnapped my son. And he killed Willhite." His tone deadlier than the look his shot the Commander. 

"Belden wants to draw out the Colombians. He's pulling Pulpo out of MCC and using him as bait." 

"There letting him out?" Antonio asked, frowning in utter disbelief. He wished he'd heard the words wrong; surely Belden wasn't do freaking stupid that he'd honestly thought letting that bastard out would help in anyway. Antonio hated to admit it but Pulpo was smart, cunning and conniving; and Belden was a tool if he thought that he'd be able to use Pulpo like a puppet. 

"Went over my head. It's already been approved" Antonio gritted his jaw as he glared at the Commander's back as he left the room. He wanted to call bullshit, but he stopped himself. Perry didn't have to come tell them about Belden's plan with Pulpo; the fact he did was a small courtesy for the mountain of shit that had just been dropped at their feet. 

Antonio waited until he'd watched the Commander walk down the stairs till he turned to Voight. The concern that still remained in his eyes washed through Antonio, and made the rage that had been bubbling near the surface cool, revealing the fear that had been hiding underneath. The only thing that was stopping him from dropping down into a chair and sobbing was the open door and the open blinds. As if sensing Antonio's desperation, Voight stood from his seat, moving to close the door and shut the blinds. Only Sumner remained in the office with them, and neither of them wanted her to come looking at what was occurring in the office. 

With the door now closed, and the room effectively private, Voight stepped into Antonio's personal space, wrapping an arm comfortingly around his shoulders. Antonio sagged slightly at the touch, rotating his upper body so that he was leaning further into Voight's side. He felt Hank place his other arm around him, and Antonio couldn't help but wrap his own arms around Hank's waist. Maybe they were crossing the line that they didn't speak of, but right now he needed this. He needed to be held, and he needed it to be Voight. Antonio curled himself up so that his head rested underneath Voight's chin, his ear pressed against his sternum. He felt Voight rest his chin gently on top of his head, and Antonio let out a shaky exhale which he didn't realize he'd been holding as he tightened his grip. They remained in each others embrace for a moment; holding on tightly, one seeking comfort and the other giving the comfort desired. 

*** 

It was a week of anxious waiting, before Antonio found himself stood with the rest of the Investigations team in the garage. Pulpo was due to arrive in merely a matter of minutes, and with every second that past, Antonio felt more and more anxious. He still couldn't believe that Belden had initially thought this was a good idea, and then Commander Perry had gone and demanded that Pulpo be sent for as soon as possible. He couldn't help but be slightly grateful that Voight was nothing like Belden, whom was so far up Perry's arse that it was a miracle he could think for himself. As the garage door raised, Antonio couldn’t help the frown that filled his face and the pit of emotion that sat in his stomach. He didn't know what he should be feeling, he felt so many things at that moment; anger, frustration, anxiety, fear. He briefly entertained the idea of punching Pulpo the moment he got out of the van; hell if he knew he could get away with it, he would shoot the bastard. He was glad that Lindsay had glued herself to his side, regardless of how much of a spitfire she could be, she could talk someone down easily when the situation called for it. The garage door revealed the unmarked van, the doors opening to reveal the man in a yellow jumpsuit with the same devil smile on his face. "Antonio," Pulpo greeted tormentingly. 

"Get him in the cage." Voight demanded, moving to stand next to Antonio. The distance between them was larger than that they were used to but it had an instant calming effect on Antonio. Although his stomach was still a pit of emotions, he felt more grounded in himself as he grabbed the photograph they had of Munoz. It was time to get what they needed out of this arsehole and then get him the hell out of here. If Antonio had his way they'd sent him straight back to prison. 

By the time they had finished planning the undercover job, Antonio felt antsy. Pulpo's last comment had bugged at him, and had made him feel like there was something he was missing. 'Tell the Cowboy happy birthday, then he'll know you're good.' He couldn't help but think he was being set up somehow. Least he'd have Voight and Sumner parked directly outside the diner just in case it did go south. He would have preferred it to be someone else with Voight, but he was also willing to put his animosity towards Sumner aside for the moment. He trusted Voight's opinion on people, and trusted his judgements, and if he thought something wasn't right with her, Antonio believed him. 

***   
Antonio was pissed, and for that matter so was Voight. They had been set up, just not in the way that Antonio had anticipated. They were being played, and it was all Belden and Perry's fault. The leverage they found in Pulpo's girlfriend and son was the thing they needed to get what they wanted. Antonio knew that it was a low blow, and if it was any other person maybe he'd feel guilt about it. But it was Pulpo, and Antonio didn't care how low a blow it was. It got the reaction they needed, and the information that hopefully would be right this time. If this tip didn't lead to any advances in the case, Antonio knew it would be a fight between him and Voight to see who got to draw blood from Pulpo first. 

Eight in the morning. That was the time when the next stage was due to go down. But the thought of going home that night didn't sit comfortable with Antonio. The last thing he wanted was to go home to the twenty questions that he knew he would receive about his day and the bad mood that would undoubtedly follow him through his front door. He toyed with the idea of going to Molly's and blowing off some steam, but Antonio knew that the amount of alcohol he would need to get to the point of mildly calm would not sit well with the early duties for the next day. He was caught with what to do with himself. His emotions were everywhere, and he'd had to walk away from the office to calm down after he had shouted at Olinksy and the others. It was Voight who found him, sitting cross legged on the table in one of the interview rooms. It was the safest place for him at the moment, nothing in the room to throw at walls. The table bolted to the floor, so he couldn't even flip that. 

 

Voight had caught the tail end of Antonio's outburst, walking up the stairs just in time to see Antonio disappear off down the corridor. He knew better than to follow straight away, best to let someone cool down and collect themselves. He knew where Antonio was coming from, and he wished he could do something or say something that would help stop Pulpo getting to Antonio. But there was nothing that could be said or done. Sometimes you just had to deal with the hand that was given to you, and if the teams hand was currently Pulpo, that was something they had to deal with. Voight waited for ten minutes before he followed after Antonio. It was late, and the others were beginning to head home. They all had to be in early tomorrow, and hopefully it would be the last day they had to deal with Pulpo. Voight was holding out on that one. He didn’t like the effect the man had on Antonio, and the sooner he was out of here the better it would be for everyone. 

Walking into the interrogation room, Voight closed the door behind him, giving them some sense of privacy regardless of the giant one way mirror that took up one wall. They both knew that no one in the team would be so intrusive as to stand in the observation room on the other side of the mirror. Sumner, the only one whom might have, had already departed for home before Voight had come to find Antonio. "You doing okay bro?" Hank asked. 

"I just want that arsehole gone." Antonio snapped back quickly. Voight watched and waited as Antonio tossed his head back to stare at the ceiling, letting out a deep breath as he closed his eyes and mouthed down numbers. Voight had to resist smiling when he realized that Antonio was mouthing the numbers in spanish. It was the little things that made Hank more and more infatuated with the other man. "Sorry," Antonio slowly breathed out. 

"Hey don't sweat it bro. Everyone's heading out by the way." Voight commented, his eyes remaining on the man in front of him, as he shook his head slightly from side to side. He watched as Antonio's hands tightened around his knee caps, the tips of his fingers turning white at the amount of pressure he was excreting. 

"I just don’t think it's a good idea for me to go home tonight. I won't be able to relax and it will just put everyone else on edge. Hell I don't even think I can go to sleep." Antonio admitted. 

"You can crash at my place tonight," Voight offered before his brain could think twice about the idea. In theory it was a suitable offer that one extended to friends whom were having a rough time; and at least this way it allowed Hank to keep an eye on Antonio. He knew that he'd not do anything stupid, but he also knew that if he was the one in Antonio's place he'd be tempted. He was tempted now, and if tomorrow turned out to be another wild goose chase, there was nothing that Commander Perry could say that would keep him out of the cage and punching Pulpo in the face several times. 

"You sure that's okay?" Antonio asked. Hank simply nodded in response. 

"Sure." 

*** 

The drove to Voight's house in one car, Hank pointedly ignored the lies Antonio told when he was on the phone to Laura, saying that they were working late, and didn't know when he'd be home. He refused to question him on why he'd not told the truth; Voight knew it wasn't his place to ask, and it was certainly none of his business what went on between Antonio and his wife. There was an air of awkwardness between them during the drive, as if neither of them quite knew what they were doing. Thoughts of the kiss they had shared a few months ago in the kitchen made Hank grip the steering wheel slightly tighter. 

Thankfully the awkward air remained in the car when they finally reached the house, Antonio falling into step behind Voight as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. "Make yourself at home, you want a beer?" Hank asked, shuffling his jacket off already steering towards the kitchen. There was a pizza located somewhere in his freezer; he figured some food and a small drink, teamed with some TV might help Antonio relax a bit. 

"Sounds good." Antonio agreed, accepting the cold bottle that was passed to him. The tension in his shoulders lightened slightly. It was strange to see Voight at home, but it was strangely relaxing to watch Hank being domestic. He simply sat and watched as Voight placed a pizza in the oven, and followed him when he moved into the living room. Dropping down onto the sofa, Antonio leant back into the arm, the hockey game that Hank turned the TV on to was a nice background noise that helped Antonio forget about what was going to go down tomorrow. He needed this more than he realized; the change to relax without being asked questions. There was no need for either of them to fill the air with small talk, they were both content to sit in each others silence. 

It was after the pizza had been eaten when Voight's phone buzzed on the coffee table, Antonio watched the frown form on Voights face as he read the message. "I've gotta head out for a bit," Hank grunted. 

"Is it something to do with Pulpo?" Antonio asked quickly, ready to jump up and follow after him. He halted, half off of the couch when Voight shook his head. 

"Is it that new guy from Internal Affairs? Stillwell?" This time Voight grunted in response to the question. The situation with Voight and Internal Affairs had been something Antonio had known about since the very beginning, back when the Investigations Unit was just start out; it was only after Gradishar had tried to get Antonio to spy on Voight that the two of them had sat down and actually spoke about what was going off. It was after Stillwell had arrested Voight, Antonio had glared at him and demanded that he be kept informed on whatever was going off, so that next time something went south he could come and bail Voight out if needed. 

Before he could stop himself, Antonio found himself saying, "Be careful. I don't trust him." 

"I don't either. Try to get some rest. I will back in a bit." Voight smirked slightly, as he grabbed his keys, heading off to find out what the annoying bastard wanted this time. 

*** 

Antonio was glad he'd gone home with Hank that night, even if he did wake up the next morning in the guest bedroom with two voicemails and five texts from Laura; all of them asking when he was going to be home, or if he was going to be coming home that night. The number of messages confused him slightly, normally she would just accept that he'd be home when he'd be home; but lately whenever he was out late he ended up with her asking how long he was going to be, and when he'd be home. They weren't jelling right recently, so maybe that had something to do with it. 

He was mildly surprised when it turned out that today's operation didn’t end up being another wild goose chase; and Antonio was happy knowing that they had got Munoz. He was no longer going to harm anyone else now that he was on a metal slab in the morgue. The last thing that the needed to do was get Pulpo back to the jail cell where he belonged. Stepping into the garage, he was instantly met with Pulpo and his ever obnoxious need to make comments, and Belden acting as guard. He wanted both of them gone. Now thanks to Belden they had to wait slightly longer to remove the piece of filth from the cell. 

Antonio waited impatiently as Pulpo's son and girlfriend embraced the criminal; there was nothing touching about the display. 

"There's nothing like being a father is there Antonio." Pulpo's mocking voice filled the air, and Antonio exhaled sharply. He remember all too well the hell that Pulpo had put him through when he'd had Diago kidnapped, and the mocking tone said that Pulpo remembered that too. How could someone who supposedly knew what it was like to be a father put another parent through what he'd made Antonio go through. 

"Alright that's enough," Antonio announced seconds after Pulpo embraced his girlfriend. He wanted them all out of his district. The garage doors began to roll open, signaling the arrival of the van that would take Pulpo away. 

He went to stand outside, watching as the guards in the van parked directly in front of the open garage door. He stared up at the sky, letting the winter sunshine warm his face for a second before he had to go back into the office. The gunshot echoed unexpectedly around him, his head swung forwards ready to locate the source of the noise. His hand grabbed at his side arm, pulling it from it's holster. He'd barely taken a step when he saw the yellow jumpsuit walking towards him unguarded. The cocking of the gun was the only noise in Antonio's ears, before he was being jerked backwards by the force of the bullet. The sound of the gunshot catching up to him as he fell backwards, landing in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay lets start with holy shit! The length of this baby! 
> 
> Secondly according to good old google translate, Sargento is supposedly spanish for Sergeant. Correct me if I am wrong :)
> 
> But let me know what you think of this chapter. I am actually really proud of it. I am not gonna lie I am very proud of the Tax return line. It is what I do every year in December; like oh shit this is due end of January. Time to be an adult and do it.
> 
> The bit at the end where Antonio get's shot was greatly helped by an amazing song by Troye Sivan - THe Quiet, (see what I did there with the fic name and shit) But basically that song is what actually made me start writing Voight/Antonio and i really recommend checking it out cause its a great song.


	4. Chapter 4

The noise of gunshots firing made everyone move. Voight's eyes widened as he realized just how close the gunshots were to the station. It was much closer than just a few streets away, this was happening on their doorstep. Thoughts immediately raced to the criminal they had in the cage downstairs. He was an easy target and he had an enemy list longer than Voight's. His mind raced as he ran out of the office, Antonio was down there with him. Unholstering his gun, his team and himself sped down into the garage. Sergeant Platt could send her officers to check the rest of the surrounding area, his team had their priorities. Stepping into the garage, Voight felt his heart pump at Halsteads shout, "Officers Down." His mind raced with one word; Antonio. 

Belden's body lay on the garage floor, neck shot, probably got caught mid turn. He didn’t stand a chance. Voight might have had a great dislike for the man, but no police officer deserved that. His eyes searched all corners of the room looking for the one person he needed to see right now. No one else was in the building; there was two uniformed officers lay in the dirty snow outside, and as he walked towards them Voight heard Jay shout again. "Antonio's down – Somebody call an ambulance." 

"Hank!" Lindsay's voice called for him, as he raced over to where Antonio was lying in the dirty grey snow that was quickly turning red from under him. Dropping to his knees beside him, he immediately applied pressure to the wound, grabbing his radio with his other hand. 

"10-1 Squad. Officer shot, 21st district." Hank commanded into the radio, dropping it as soon as he finished speaking so that he could apply pressure with both hands. Not like this. Not Antonio. Antonio's grip was still on the gun; he'd had no time to fire before he was shot. He'd been the fish in a barrel and Voight swore he was going to get revenge. His hands were getting stained red as the blood pumped between his fingers regardless of the pressure he was placing on the wound. That ambulance needed to get here now. The blood was continuing to pool on the floor below, and Voight hated how wide the pool was beginning to stretch out. 

The rest of the team could see if Pulpo was still in grabbing distance; for now Hank had his only priority. He tried to apply more pressure to the wound in Antonio's chest, to no avail. It was a through and through and there was nothing Voight could do to stem the flow of blood coming out of the exit hole. "Where the hell is that ambulance!" Voight snapped to no one in particular, panic twisting the fear in his blood into rage. Antonio was turning paler by the second, and that worried him. What if the ambulance didn't get there in time? What if it was already too late? Antonio was a tough son of a bitch, but a bullet was a lot fucking tougher. The sound of sirens was fast approaching, getting louder with every second. 

"Come on bro, stay with me." Voight whispered quietly as he locked his arms, putting more force into his hands. Antonio's shirt was now soaked through, the grey fabric now dark with blood. Glancing up quickly, Hank let out a short exhale of breath as he saw the ambulance rolling down the street towards them. A small part of him was grateful that Antonio's sister was not the one jumping out of the vehicle; she didn't need to see her brother like this again, and a scared part of Hank's mind didn't know how well she'd have been able to do her job when it was her brother she was working on. The paramedic was gently easing his hands out the way, ready to take over with a pressure bandage at the ready. 

"It's a through and through," Voight found himself saying, despite the fact he knew the paramedic could already tell. His hands had been moved out of the way, the paramedics gloved hands taking his place. He couldn't bring himself to step back though; he didn't want to leave Antonio's side. Regardless of the blood on his skin, he gently rested his hand on Antonio's cheek, stroking the soft stubble. The red stain that was left there, contrasted against the white skin; the sight of it made Hank's heart ache. Around him the two paramedics were working around him, sliding the backboard underneath Antonio's limp body. Halstead and Ruzek were at the ready, when it was time to lift the backboard onto the stretcher, the two younger officers pale with a scared look in their eyes as they stared down at their second in command. 

"I'm coming with him." Voight stated as the stretcher was placed in the ambulance, climbing in the back after the paramedic. He watched as the two paramedics shared a look, but nodded regardless. He'd have dared them to try to stop him if they had refused. Dropping into the seat next to the stretcher, Hank reached out clasping Antonio's hand within both of his own. He could feel the paramedics eyes staring at him, but the stare was cut off when the paramedic began placing the IV line. 

"So how long have you two been together?" Voight's heap snapped around to stare at the paramedic. There was no judgment in the man's eyes nor was there any in his tone, merely an intrigue that left Voight sighing. 

Dropping his gaze back down to Antonio's face, Hank tightened his grip on his hand. "It's not like that." He grunted, not needing to look to sense the surprise that was on the paramedics face. He knew how it looked, and he didn't know how he was meant to hide his feelings when everyone got to the hospital. Lindsay was already on her way to tell Laura what was happening, and Voight selfishly didn't want her to know. The very last thing he wanted to see was Laura crying over Antonio, being the one who was allowed to hold his hand. 

They reached the hospital quickly, speed had been no objection and even in the back of the ambulance, Voight could hear the frustrated car horns of the people moving out the way for them. They hadn't even stopped when the back doors to the ambulance were pulled open, a small team of doctors ready and waiting as they pulled the gurney out. Voight jumped out after them, refusing to let Antonio out of his sight. He watched as the gurney was pushed into a cubicle bay, but before he could follow it he found himself confronted with a doctor pushing him backwards. 

"You can't go in there." 

Hank pushed back against the hands, pointing his fingers at the doctors face, snapping angrily, "I am staying with him." 

"Sir you cannot go in there right now! He is being prepped for surgery." The urge to throw a punch was building in Voight, and if he saw Pulpo right now no one would be able to stop him from murdering him right there in the middle of a very busy hospital ward. Witnesses be damned. Throwing his arms in the air, Voight reluctantly took a step backwards from the doctor gritting his teeth as he did. Fisting his hands in his hair, Voight simply nodded in defeat. "He'll be sent up to intensive care. There's a waiting area up there." The doctors words offered nothing for Voight. Turning around, he began the walk upstairs. He knew where he was going. 

*** 

The rest of the team had arrived shortly after he had; Antonio was already in surgery by the then. Hank had been given the smallest glimpse of the man as the porters and the doctors had rolled him into one of the operating theatres. Olinsky had shown up momentarily asking for any news; he and Ruzek were off following leads but had stopped by the hospital on their way. Al had taken one look at Voight, with his hands still red with blood and shoved the man towards the bathroom telling him to message him as soon as they had any news. Standing in the bathroom, and washing Antonio's blood off of his hands, made Voight feel empty inside. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel, but the emptiness was doing a great job at covering the rage, the fear and the amount of remorse that he was feeling. Hank knew just from the sight of the blood mixing with the water as it ran down the sink, that he was never going to let Antonio get shot ever again. He'd take a hundred bullets before he let one go near Antonio ever again. 

After washing away the blood, Voight simply paced around the waiting room, he couldn't stand sitting around jumping at any possible news. The TV in the background was already displaying Pulpo's mugshot, asking for any information. Hank knew that they wouldn't get anything from it, they rarely did. The waiting area had filled up quickly, not just with his team, but with other officers from the district as well. Antonio was a popular guy, he had the ability to get along with anyone. A few groups merged together talking softly between themselves, but silence was Voight's friend. He'd stop pacing when the other officers had arrived, he stood unmoving staring down the corridor just waiting for one of the surgeons to exit from the operating room that Antonio was in. 

Erin had shown up with Laura, and Voight honestly didn't know what he was supposed to say to her. He wasn't always the most vocal with words, but when he spoke the words were never empty. But he couldn't think of a single word to say to her. What was he really meant to say to the wife of the man he had feelings for. Just over Laura's shoulder, Hank could see one of the doctors pushing open the door a solemn look on his face. He wanted to rush forwards to ask the questions forming in his mouth, but instead he watched as Laura walked towards the doctor instead. 

"Mrs Dawson," the doctor began sympathetically; his words being cut off before he could continue with whatever sentence that he was about to say. 

"Is he going to be alright?" 

"We're going to monitor him closely, but he may need a second surgery. He's not out of the woods yet." Voight let a small breath out as the words echoed past Laura to him. Antonio may not be out of the woods, but he was alive and right then that was the only thing that mattered. 

"Can I see him?" 

"Of course." Laura's head whipped around to where the Investigations team stood just behind her, gently indicating with her head that they could join her in seeing Antonio. Voight immediately pushed his way past Lindsay and Halstead to follow Antonio's wife. His movements were not malicious, merely desperate in his attempt to make sure that the doctors words were true. He needed to see for himself, and he had no doubt that was how Laura felt also. He felt a wave of gratitude towards her, she was willingly allowing her husbands work colleagues into the room when it should have just been an emotional reunion between husband and wife. It just showed to Hank, just how much Laura realized and understood the bonds in a police unit. 

They followed the doctor as they were led through the ICU towards Antonio's room; and Hank's heart dropped as he looked at the man in the bed. Someone had cleaned away the blood that had been on his neck, and the blood that Hank had left on his face when he'd touched his cheek. The hospital gown swamped his frame, and made him look ill against the bright white sheets. The oxygen tube in his nose and the cannula's in the back of his hands made him a mess of wires. The blood pressure cuff on his arm and the clip on his index finger was hooked into a machine that beeped occasionally. But the thing that hurt the most was that Antonio's eyes were closed. Hank stood and watched from the bottom of the bed as Laura rushed towards her husband, gently stroking his hair as she whispered his name. Voight watched as Antonio's eyes slowly opened, and stared directly down the bed towards where he stood. 

"Hey baby," Antonio croaked, slowly turning his head so that he could glance to the woman at his side. 

"Hi honey," Laura smiled in response, prompting a series of greetings from the others. 

"Hey big guy," Halstead offered a forced half smile, whilst Lindsay gave a sympathetic one with a simple 'Hey'. 

Antonio's eyes fell back to Voight, "Belden?" 

Voight shook his head, the worry in his stomach had remaied but there was a pit of dread that had wormed it's way inside his emotions as well. "Gone." 

"Those guards?" 

"Both dead," Hank continued, his tone just as blunt and emotionless as it had been a moment before. He could see in the corner of his eye Lindsay turn to glare at him slightly but he couldn't find it within himself to turn and raise an eyebrow back in response. His eyes stayed glued to Antonio, his only focus in the room. 

"Find him." 

"We will," Voight responded, his face set in a frown. He was going to find him, and then he was going to make sure that no one ever found Pulpo ever again. He let out small sigh, his tone shifting to one more affectionate as he reached down to gently squeeze Antonio's ankle over the top of the scratchy hospital sheets. "Get some rest bro." 

*** 

Stepping back into the waiting room, Hank was greeted with the cops lining the walls on either side of the corridor; all desperately waiting to find out what was going on, but also all of them were giving Investigations the clear path in and out of the room. He was greeted with Antonio's children walking towards him accompanied by two elders, whom he could only assume to be Laura's parents. He knew from conversation that Antonio's parents lived in the Dominican Republic, and he'd made no mention of them visiting recently. He tried his best to reassure the two kids with his comforting words about how Antonio was a fighter, but at the same time he wasn't sure who he was trying to fool. 

He spotted Burgess and Atwater standing to the side. He had his eye on those two, they were on his mental promotions list for Investigations, and as soon as there was a space he knew it was going to be one of those two he chose to fill it. Both had proved themselves in their job and to him countless times and he couldn't think of anyone else at the moment who he would trust more. "Listen, you two stay here with Laura and the kids. They don't leave your sight, do you hear me?"

Voight was met with Burgess' automatic acknowledgement to his words, he could always count on her. She was a good cop but sometimes she was far too eager to please. Hank turned to walk away, when he heard Atwater's cautious tone. "Sarge, no disrespect. I'd rather be out there hunting down Pulpo." 

Voight narrowed his eyes as he shook his head trying to grasp his head around the blatant disregard to his order. He knew deep down the Atwater really didn't mean it offensively, but the rage that had been stewing inside him for the best part of the day was creeping up in Hank's blood again. "What is more important than protecting Antonio, and his family." Hank snapped as he walked out the door and began stomping out of the hospital. Antonio was the most important thing right now. No one knew if Pulpo was going to backtrack. Maybe he'd never intended to keep Antonio alive. Maybe he had intended to shoot to kill; it was a chest shot after all. He would rather Pulpo got away than for the Colombian man to walk into the hospital and shoot Antonio again. 

*** 

"Forget warrants, forget the rules. It's on us to catch him, and when we do, he's to be handed over to me and Alvin." 

"Pulpo ain't making it back to a jail cell, is that clear enough for you?" 

He couldn't help but think about Antonio even as he raged about Pulpo. He was going to kill the man, kill the octopus. He wouldn't stop until he had the man that shot Antonio, and he wouldn't sleep until that man was sleeping with the fishes. He was caught; he wanted to be by Antonio's side but he wanted to catch Pulpo. He was willing to do what he had to do, and if that meant his hands got a shade dirtier than they already were, then so be it. To top it all off, he had finally been given a reason to fire Sumner. If it was any other day he might be happy about getting rid of Internal Affair's rat in his ball pin, but today his mind and his judgment centered around Antonio. 

With Pulpo's girlfriend in their custody, and with the new knowledge that Pulpo had planned for the set up, made Voight angry. They were no closer to catching the bastard than they were this morning. Slamming the door to his office closed with an audible slam that echoed around the ball pin. Pulpo's file on his desk stared up at him, complete with the mugshot. The face was taunting him; mocking his inability to catch the criminal. Grabbing the file, he threw it at the wall, the pages flying around the room, scattering on the floor. His phone buzzed insistently in his pocket as he placed his palms on the top of his desk. Grabbing his phone, he swiped to accept the call. "Trudy, what's up?" 

"Just thought I should let you know that the doctors don't think Antonio is going to need a second surgery at the moment." Sergeant Platt's steely voice filled his ear. Voight liked Trudy, trusted her. She was a good cop and a good person, but she was also a tough bitch. She was a woman who saw nearly everything and knew nearly everything that went on in their building, but she wasn't a gossip about it and that was something Hank appreciated in a person. To know when to say something, and to know where something was best kept to yourself. 

"That's good to hear. How's he doing?" 

"He's doing okay." There was a pause before she continue, "He keeps asking about you; but only when Laura's not in the room." Voight grunted in response, not rising to whatever bait she was trying to dangle in front of him. He hear her sigh down the phone before she commented, "Do I need to tell you the same thing I told Burgess yesterday?" 

"That depends on what you told her." Hank grumbled dryly. 

"Go to the bathroom, throw some cold water on your face and tell yourself three times; he was never yours to begin with." If Trudy Platt had been in his office at the moment, Voight would have glared a hole into her. Before he could retort, her voice filled his ear again, "But I don't think that quite relates to you two. So how long has it been going on?" 

"It's not," Voight grunted, "Just tell him I'll be back as soon as I'm done with Pulpo." He didn’t wait for Platt's response before he hung up; he knew she'd just try to dig for more information. Antonio was asking after him though, and that made him simultaneously happy and guilty. For months after that kiss, he'd made it clear that it shouldn't have happened. They never talked about it, and whilst he wished he could do it again, he knew that he shouldn’t. He wasn't going to ruin a marriage, or consequently turn Laura, Eva and Diago against Antonio. He couldn't do that. 

*** 

"Hey Pulpo remember me?" 

Voight knew he owed Brian more than just a crummy coffee as thank you for translating the Russian emails and acting as translator in the interrogation. Without the Intel that the firefighter had provided, they would never have been able to get to Pulpo before he was being cargoed out of the US. The punch that he had delivered to the criminals face had felt good, but it was nothing compared to what was going to happen. One punch was nothing compared to Antonio being shot. With Olinksy's aid they quickly bound his ankles and wrists hauling his semi-conscious body out of the truck before unceremoniously throwing him in the boot of the car. 

"Alright, you can take off. Now." Voight all but commanded Lindsay, Halstead and Ruzek. They were good cops, but they weren't in the same police force as Voight and Al had been when they were their age. When Voight was the same age as Lindsay, it was normal for a criminal to disappear en-route to prison or to magically be found dead in his cell. They were rookies in their ways, and would never understand the bloodshed that older generations of cops went through. Al jumped in the driver side of the car, and as Hank climbed into the passenger side he nodded his head. This is what Pulpo deserves for what he did. 

Driving into the garage, and dragging Pulpo out of the boot, it was interesting to gage the criminals reaction as he looked around the new environment. Even he knew that he wasn't going to be getting out of this situation alive; Voight remained emotionless to his bargaining attempts. 

"I can give you the Russians. I can give you the mexicans." Voight cut him off with a loud slap that snapped the criminals head to the side. 

"I don't care," Voight retorted emotionless, as he duct-taped the man's mouth, throwing him in the cage with the help of Olinksy. This was the only justice that Pulpo was going to get. 

*** 

Antonio was sick of the hospital already. The room he was in, on the Intensive Care Ward had nothing to occupy his attention. There wasn't even a TV screen in there. He was propped up on a small mountain of pillows, to keep him upright and to stop fluid building on his lungs, but his head was still angled up at the ceilings. He hated ceilings. Laura had taken the kids home an hour or so ago, and Antonio hated to admit it but he was thankful. He loved his kids, and he loved his wife; but the kids were bored, they didn't want to be in the hospital watching him slowly recover and his wife was looking at him like any small cough would rip the stitches in his chest and back. He hated being shot; this would be his third bullet he'd taken on the job but he hated the general anesthetic more. It might just be his brain playing tricks on him, but he swore he could still taste the anesthesia they pushed into his cannula before he went into surgery. Why was it even possible to taste something which they inject into his arm; it's not like he swallows the thing. 

Antonio as interrupted from his inner musings by the sound of footsteps walking into his room; it was probably another nurse there to push more antibiotics into his veins, or to take more blood pressure readings. He was mildly surprised to be greeted to the sight of Halstead though. 

"How you doing?" Jay Halstead asked, gently patting Antonio on the shoulder in greeting. 

Antonio eyed the cup of water that was on the table beside him, "I'm dying of thirst." The straw being raised to his mouth was like heaven. The water was warm but it felt so good running down his throat. He'd tried to reach for it earlier but his back ached as his bandages tightened and the wires connecting him to the heart monitor stopped him from trying to stretch for it. Drinking until the cup was empty, Antonio muttered a thanks as his head dropped the inch back onto his pillow. 

"Hey we got him." Antonio frowned at Halstead's words. For a moment he felt as though dread had filled his lungs instead of oxygen. 

"I didn't see it on the news." 

"I'm not sure you will." Halstead stated, his face telling Antonio all he need to know. Voight had caught Pulpo then, but he wasn't going to hand in him. Instead he was going to do the exact same thing he did all those years before with the guy who had killed Al's old partner. Pulpo's body was never going to be found. Suddenly the ceiling he had all but hated a few moments before seemed like a good friend as Antonio stared up at the ceiling trying to stop his eyes watering. 

"The guy who killed Olinksy's partner, Browning. Supposedly they took him to the Docks on River Road." Antonio whispered. He needed Jay to know, he need him to stop this before it happened. 

"And did what?" Halstead asked, his tone told Antonio that he'd already known about that part of the rumor. Most cops had. 

"Took him for a boat ride." The two men shared a look of understanding, "Jay, I want Pulpo punished for what he did. But I don't want that on my conscience. Do you?" Antonio didn't want it on Voight's conscience either. He was so thankful at the small shake of a head he got in response. He knew that Halstead didn't like how Voight played things occasionally, and this was definitely one of the times that Antonio would agree with him on that matter. "Please go stop him." 

*** 

When Antonio had said boat ride, Jay had literally been imagining them driving a boat out to somewhere in the lake and throwing Pulpo overboard. He'd have drowned within a few hours. Weigh him down with something and he'd have drowned even sooner. He hadn't expected to find Voight and Olinsky stood on a small jetty in the marina with Pulpo on his knees by the edge; chains wrapped around his neck, attached to two large cinder blocks. 

"You can't do this." He muttered, trying to reason with his boss. 

"You went to see Antonio," The way Voight said it, Halstead knew it was a statement rather than a question. He nodded regardless of the lack of a question. Voight continued, "What Antonio wants, and what Pulpo deserves are two different things." 

"We need to turn him in." 

"He dies right here, right now." Voight retorted, kicking one of the cinder blocks off the edge of the jetty. Halstead winced at the way Pulpo's head snapped back at the sudden weight pulling at his neck. 

"Wo, Wo, Wait a second. Wait a second. The kid's right man. We got what we want." Olinsky cut in, pushing himself in between Voight and Pulpo, and ignoring when Voight said his name. "Not now, not tonight. Not tonight." Jay could see that Voight was stuck between them, two against one. His boss didn't say anything, merely looked between them both before walking away off of the jetty. Jay watched as Olinsky grabbed the back of Pulpo's head, taking some of the pressure of the dropped chain off of the criminals neck. Unwrapping the chain from around Pulpo's neck, Halstead grabbed him by the pit, dragging him up onto his feet as Olinsky kicked the chains into the lake; disposing of the evidence of them being here, the only difference being there was no longer a body attached to the chains like there was meant to have been. 

Throwing Pulpo into the back seat of Olinsky's car, the drive back to the station was an interesting one which Halstead had no hope to ever encounter again. None of the four passengers spoke, and Voight had just sat there in the backseat staring sullen holes into the headrest of the seat in front. Halstead supposed his bosses mood wasn't helped by the criminal who was sat in backseat next to him. But there was no talk of Pulpo being placed in the boot this time. Reaching the station, Halstead watched as Voight stomped off upstairs without saying a word to anyone. 

*** 

Voight was pissed, but not at Halstead or Olinsky. He was angry at himself. He had let his emotions leaf him today, and regardless of how much he wanted to push Pulpo off of that jetty, a part of him was glad that Halstead had turned up to stop them. He knew the Olinsky had never gotten over what they had down to Browning, and he'd never admit it but he didn't sleep like a baby over it either. He'd made a promise to his wife all those years ago when she'd figured out what he'd done that he would never do it again. Hank had agreed, his darling Camille had been forced to put up with his bad dreams for years afterwards, it broke her just as much as it broke him. He'd always said to himself that he would never mercilessly kill someone in revenge ever again unless they'd hurt Camille, Justin or Erin. Somehow Antonio had snuck his way onto that list. He'd said to the team earlier that Pulpo had hurt on of their family, but in truth it was one of his family. 

"Hey sarge you wanted to see us?" Atwater's voice made him run a hand over his face, as he stood in his office. He'd momentarily forgotten that Sumner's spot needed to be filled. 

"Yh, now you may have heard we have a spot open." Voight announced. 

"Yes sir," Burgess responded, ever polite and ever formal. 

"And I want to fill it straight away. Congratulations Atwater, you just made Intelligence." 

"Thank you sir, I appreciate that." Atwater blinked a second before grinning, accepting the hand that Voight offered him. 

Voight nodded in response, "Great you start tomorrow." Turning away from the two officers who had stepped out of his office to embrace, he dumped his jacket on the coat stand, before dropping into his desk chair. He was going to fill the paperwork and then he was going to see Antonio before he went home. That was something he always liked about doctors, just say you're police and they let you in regardless of what time. They also didn't mind when an entire district filled a waiting room. Hank knew it was the same when one of the firefighters got injured, the rest of the fighters would take over the waiting area; most of the time still in their gear. 

"Sir. Can I ask why?" Voight was cut from his thoughts by Burgess' question. 

"You didn't make the cut." He finished the rest of the question for her, "You're good police Burgess. I just don't tolerate in-house romance." And wasn't that just the hypocrite statement of the year, but regardless of his own feelings, today proved Voight right on the matter. He was incapable of separating his feelings for Antonio from his work, and he knew that if it happened again, he would be in the same situation. 

*** 

It was way past midnight by the time Voight walked into the ICU, making his way towards Antonio's room. Stepping into the white room, he was happy to see the color that had returned to Antonio's cheeks; no longer were they the pale white from earlier on. The breathing tube was still inserting into his nose, but the sight of the oxygen tubes looked less life-threatening than they had earlier on. 

"Hey," a soft voice rasped out from the bed. 

"Hey, didn't realize you were awake." Voight admitted, moving to stand next to the bed. He pulled one of the visitor chairs closer to the bedside, his eyebrows raising when almost immediately Antonio grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

"I saw on the news that you turned Pulpo in. Thank you." Antonio half smiled and half grimaced. Voight raised his spare hand to gently stroke Antonio's cheek, careful not to catch the breathing tube with his thumb. 

"I just did what you asked me to." Hank admitted. 

"I didn't want it on my conscience, and I didn't want it on yours." Antonio continued, his eyes watering; a few tears threatening to spill. Voight wiped away one that fell. 

"Do you need some more pain meds? I can go get someone-" 

"No. Just." A few tears fell again, and Voight squeezed Antonio's hand comfortingly. The shock of the day finally catching up to the injured man. 

"Hey don't worry bro. I'm here for you." Slowly Voight leaned forwards, pressing the gentlest of kisses to Antonio's lips. Pulling back slightly, he whispered into the space between them, "I'm right here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus this was challenging little bastard! I love Voight but it is so much easier to write in Antonio's head. 
> 
> But yes general discussion time yay!  
> So in my little canon here when Antonio wakes up and says "Hey Baby", he's speaking to Voight. 
> 
> Secondly Antonio's little comments about general anesthetic is literally me. I had it for the first time back in October and I'm not gonna lie; oxygen mask on my face and the anesthetic got put in the cannula in the back of my hand next thing i know I can taste the bastard. It does not taste nice. I actually said to the anesthesist, "Why can I taste it, I don't like it." I probably knocked out midway through that sentence, and it would not surprise me at all if I went down to theater with my mouth hanging open cause of it. Classy. 
> 
> By the way I lied, this is gonna be six chapters not five. I was meant to squish the new chapter 5 with this one, but when I reached the 5,000 word mark for this chapter I hastily decided not too.


	5. Chapter 5

Pulpo was moving towards him, venom in his eyes, and the gun raised at the ready. Antonio couldn't move; he was as frozen as the old snow surrounding him on the Chicago streets. But still Pulpo kept walking closer, and Antonio could do nothing but stand and stare as the criminal fired the handgun. The bullet ripped through his leg, blood spraying out behind him as he dropped to his knee. Not taking his eyes of the ever approaching man, Antonio watched as another bullet was fired, this time his shoulder screamed in agony. His hands came up to try and stem the blood that was seeping out of the wound in his shoulder. Pulpo came to stand directly in front of him, the man's toes touching Antonio's knees. The gun came to rest against his forehead, and Antonio stared up the barrel of the gun into the criminals unmoving face. He could do nothing but watch as Pulpo's finger twitched on the trigger, his head slamming backwards as the bullet fired. 

Antonio jolted awake, his hands slapping over the bandage that covered his chest, instantly regretting the move, as pain erupted around the covered wound. His breathing came out labored, and his shirt clung to his skin from the cold sweat. His heart was raising, and his hands were shaking as he placed his hand carefully over the bandaged wound on his front once more whilst using the other hand to push himself up and out of the bed. The ache from the wound intensified as he pushed himself upwards, and Antonio kept his hand firmly pressed against it as he hastily moved towards his bathroom. Grabbing his phone off of the bedside table as he moved, Antonio locked the door behind him as he dropped down onto the rim of the bathtub. His heart was raising still, a mixture of fear and exertion as he struggled to unlock his phone. His thumb swept through his contact list until it reached who he wanted; it took three attempts at swiping right before his phone began dialing. 

His foot bounced on the floor as Antonio held the phone to his ear, biting the lip as he listened to it ringing. His breathing was becoming worse; each breath coming out quicker than the last. "Antonio?" Hanks voice sounded through the phone and the soft gravelly sound instantly worked to calm some of the anxiety building up inside of him.

"Pulpo's still in prison?" Antonio's words formed before his mind could control them, his fears being aired out as the terror from the dream remained at the forefront of his emotions. 

"The only way he's gonna come out of there now will be in a body bag. He isn't gonna last the month," Voight blunt statement acted like a comforter, the words wrapping themselves around Antonio's heart. "Are you okay?" 

Antonio couldn't even force himself to lie. The time had appeared in a large font as he'd struggled to unlock his phone, and regardless of the fact that it was three in the morning and people were most likely asleep he'd needed to call Voight. His heart was still pumping faster than it normally did, and his breathing was also still considerably faster than normal. His t-shirt was nearlly drenched through from sweat, as were the old pair of gym shorts he'd worn to bed as well. His skin was clammy to touch, and he could feel a droplet of moisture that was running down the back of his knee. To top it all off he was sat in his bathroom on the verge of having a panic attack. "No," he breathed into the phone, his words stuttering as he continued, "Guess I had a bad dream." 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not really. Just thank you, I'm sorry that I woke you up." Antonio muttered, pinching the fabric of his t-shirt with his fingers. Fuck what the doctors said about not getting the wound wet, he was having a shower after this. The bandages were probably just as soaked through at the shirt was, and he might as well clean himself up and change the dressings afterwards. 

"Don't worry about it, I'm always here for you bro. Try to get some more sleep okay?" Antonio found himself nodding along to Voight's words, muttering a quiet agreement in response. 

"Thanks... Hank." Antonio whispered into the phone, catching the sound of a deep inhale of breath just before he hung up the call. He'd never called him Hank to his face before, and saying the name felt different between them. Almost like a step in the right direction. 

The phone call had calmed him down, and he couldn't help but stare at his phone for a moment. It had installed a sense of calmness in him that he had needed since he left hospital the day before. It had been five days since the shooting; Antonio had been shocked at how quickly they had let him out of the hospital. The doctors had said the wounds were healing well, and that as long as he took it easy and did the physiotherapy exercises he should be all healed within a few weeks. It was pretty much the same exercises that he'd been given last time he'd been shot, so Antonio had thrown the sheet of paper straight into the bin. He knew his limits better than some bog standard piece of paper; the paper the doctors gave him said expected bed rest time should be two weeks. There was no way he was staring at the ceiling for two weeks. 

Pulling his damp t-shirt off over his head took more difficulty than it already would, and he could feel the tightness in his back at the movement as he raised his arms above his head. Dropping the shirt on the floor, Antonio shakily pushed himself off of the bathtub edge. There was a large mirror above the sink, and Antonio stood with his back facing it, looking over his shoulder at the reflection in it. It was the only way he could check the state of the bandage on the exit wound in his back, and he was grateful to see that there was no fresh blood seeping through. It was the only way he could check the full state of his injuries; he in theory could ask Laura to help him, but ever since he'd gotten out of the hospital things had been beyond tense between them. 

He wasn't actually meant to go in the shower yet, but he couldn't stand the idea of having to wash with a wet cloth once more. Keeping the bandages in place, he stepped into the shower, setting it to a slightly colder spray than he'd normally use. Standing under the cool water, Antonio carefully angled his body so that the spray was hitting his shoulders and head first. Looking down at the bandage on his chest, he couldn't help but glance at the other scars that littered his body. The bandage overlapped onto the edges of his other bullet scars, and really what was one more. He just hoped that he'd never have to encounter a fourth. 

*** 

Antonio was lying on the couch, when his attention was stolen away from the Hockey Game on TV by Laura throwing his phone down on his chest. Antonio grunted at the pain, anger filling his brain as he sat up, placing a hand over his bandage. "What the hell was that for!" 

"Are you sleeping with her?" Antonio frowned and raised his hand in confusion at his wife's words. Grabbing his phone from where it had bounced onto the cushion, he unlocked it to try to figure out what Laura was on about, and who she was accusing him with. A message from Jellybean filled the screen; 'Sorry to hear about the shooting. Hope you get better soon. XXXXX.' It wasn't abnormal, most of his CI's had his number, and some of them had sent him get well soon messages also. Antonio couldn't figure out why Laura was reacting like this to an innocent message. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Antonio snapped back; the pain in his chest from having the phone land on him still hadn't quite ebbed away, and he was sure it had done absolutely nothing to help the lovely bruise he had from the surgery. "She's one of our CI's. Seriously what has gotten into you lately?" 

"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you! Or more like who have you been getting into." Laura shouted, and Antonio was instantly grateful that the kids were spending the day with Laura's parents. 

Antonio didn't know how he was even supposed to respond to that, as he realized what Laura was trying to suggest. The abrupt confrontation threw him and he knew that regardless of it not being true the silence that had filled the room after Laura's question had left his answer open for discussion. 

"Oh my god, you actually are screwing someone else." Laura was no longer shouting, instead her voice had dropped to a quiet whisper as the shock made her laugh at the end of her sentence. Antonio blinked wide eyed at his wife as she stared up at the ceiling, shaking her head as tears slowly fell from her eyes. 

"I'm not sleeping with someone else." Antonio retorted. It was kind of true, he'd never slept with someone else. That didn't mean he wasn't fantasizing about having sex with someone else though. He hated the lie that was in his truth, but he hated even more that he was having to have this conversation. 

"How can I even believe you! We haven't had sex in months!" Laura's voice was raising again. 

"I'm sorry but if you haven't noticed I'm a bit injured at the moment, so I so apologize if I don't want to have sex." Antonio snapped, his voice raising properly for the first time in their argument. It was another half truth though. He didn't feel right having sex with Laura when he was lusting after someone else. 

"Don't even get me started on you getting shot." Rage filled Antonio's body; it had barely been a week since Pulpo had walked up to firing at his chest, and Laura was using it against him as if he'd asked for it to happen. The nightmares from the shooting had haunted him every night since. 

Antonio pushed himself upwards, shaking his head as he walked away from his wife. "I'm not even going there with you right now. I'm going out." Grabbing his car keys as he walked out the front door, he couldn't resist slamming the door loudly behind him. His blood was still pumping from the rage, Laura's words still streaming through his mind. Her words made him question the truth he'd been reluctant to admit. Was he really cheating? Maybe he wasn't as committed to the relationship as he had been, but he wasn't having sex with someone else. Reversing out of his car space, he began navigating down the Chicago streets, not knowing where he was heading. 

He was pissed and his chest still ached uncomfortably from when his phone had been thrown on it as he pulled up outside a house. Antonio threw his head back against the seats headrest. It wasn't helping his dilemma that the place he automatically decides to drive to after having a fight with his wife just so happened to be Voight's house. His desire to see the other man wasn't even sub-conscious either; it was right there at the front of his mind. The lights in the house were off though, and Hank's car was nowhere in sight on the street. Even if he was at home though, Antonio had no idea what he would have said to him. He refused to speak the words that were screaming in his head. 

Sighing, Antonio thumped his head against the headrest once more, before he shifted the car back into drive. He should go home, the rational part of his brain reasoned. He really should, but the prospect of another fight or even a conversation with Laura didn't appeal to him at the moment. He supposed he could go to see Gabby, but he knew that she would yell at him if she knew that he was driving around; a fond smile filled his face as he stopped at a traffic light. When she'd come to see him in the hospital, she had socked him one on the shoulder before leaning down and kissing his forehead. If he turned up on her's and Matt's doorstep now, he'd probably get the same treatment; a hard punch to the arm, and then she'd mother him all whilst insulting him. God forbid she find him going to Molly's, she would probably kill him, bring him back to life and then kill him again. 

Reluctantly, Antonio began following the roads that would take him back towards his own house. The drive had allowed him a few peaceful moments to himself where he could think without having Laura pottering around him. His wife had taken it upon herself to be beside him every single moment of the day since he'd been home from hospital, and Antonio wanted nothing more than for her to go back to work. He knew it was awful of him to think, and he would never say it to her face, knowing it would only end in yet another argument. But he was a grown man, and he did not need someone watching over him. He was perfectly capable of sitting on the sofa and not exerting himself for a few hours whilst everyone else was out of the house. He would be bored but anything was better than the constant agitation he'd been feeling for the last couple of days. 

*** 

Laura couldn't sleep; tension had filled the house ever since Antonio had returned home after he'd stormed out the house. They hadn't spoken since, the kids had returned home whilst Antonio was gone, so they didn't dare share a single word between them. Things were so volatile at the moment, that exchanging a word would probably erupt into another argument. Antonio had retired to bed much earlier than the rest of the family, citing a headache; Laura was caught between wanting to call him out on bullshit, or fob off with the same excuse. 

Antonio was twitching in his sleep beside her, and ever movement and mutter made Laura agitated. If they had a spare room, she would have slept in there; but as it stood there was no where else in the house she could comfortably sleep for the night. They rarely went to bed angry with each other, and it frustrated her that they had. But at the moment she'd rather be angry than talk to the man beside her. Said man was mumbling in Spanish, and Laura was surprised by her own desire to smother the words with a pillow. The anger had been brewing since Erin Lindsay had knocked on the front door saying that Antonio had been shot; the fact that he'd been shot by Pulpo was like rubbing salt into a fresh wound. Antonio hadn't even told her that Pulpo was being released into police custody; she couldn't believe that her husband had failed to tell her something that important. The man who had been behind the kidnapping of their son, and her husband hadn't felt the need to tell her about his release. She could see the bandage that was still covering his chest as the sheets shifted with one of Antonio's movements, and she couldn’t bring herself to feel any sympathy. 

Beside her Antonio moaned loudly, jolting her from her thoughts. She was getting so fed up of him not explaining what was going on. Something was going on with him, and it was affecting him, and it was affecting her. Laura didn't know if she should believe Antonio when he'd denied sleeping with his CI. She folded her arms over her chest as she continued to stare at her husband as he shifted and mumbled distorted Spanish into his pillow. 

"También te amo..." Laura felt her heart lift for a moment; she knew those words. Her Spanish was far from the best, but she knew what that translated too; and just as quickly as her heart lifted, it came crashing back down along with the rest of the world. "También te amo, Hank." She'd been wrong about the situation all along. Antonio had never been sleeping with another woman; it had been his very male boss. Raising her hand to the her mouth, Laura couldn't stop the shaky sob that escaped. 

*** 

Antonio let out a large sigh of relief as he snuck out his front door early in the morning. He'd been sat on his arse doing nothing for over a week and yesterday he had finally reached his limit. Waking up early, he'd climbed out of bed before his wife awoke; even showering in the family bathroom instead of the en-suite so that she couldn't hear him and realize his plan. He was going back to work, and he was not going to let Laura stop him, and force him to spend another boring day in front of boring daytime TV. Sneaking out the house at six in the morning also spared him any inevitable argument that would probably break out. He had a book in his hand, and there was a small coffee shop a block away from the station that he knew was open early, so he had something to do for the two hours before he could show up at the office. He'd rather wait around for two hours than spend another two hours at home under the unforgiving glare of his wife. 

As it so happened, he couldn't avoid Laura for as long as he would have hoped. He'd been sat in the café an hour when his phone began buzzing impatiently on the table, a photo of his wife staring up at him as he reluctantly accepted the call. He didn't even say anything before he had Laura's raised voice nearly shouting in his ear. "Where the hell are you?" 

"I've gone back to work." Antonio responded blankly, his wife had done nothing but glare at him for three days now, ever since he had walked out on their argument. They had only spoken to each other when the kids were in the room with them, and even then it was only because they had to. He had walked in on her crying on the phone the other night, and had just been about to ask her what was wrong before she screamed at him to 'Leave me alone.' 

"You have to be kidding me right? What the hell do you mean you have gone back to work!" Laura was shouting now, and Antonio had to pull away from the phone wincing at the volume. 

"I've been sat on my ass doing nothing for over a week, so I've gone back to work. Listen I've got to go. Talk to you later bye." Maybe it was the cowards way out, but the last place he wanted to have an argument over the phone was in a public café, with more than one person trying to listen in. His phone began buzzing almost immediately, and Antonio had no regrets as he declined the call instead of accepting. 

*** 

Walking into the district, Antonio felt more at home than he had for the last week and a half. He swore he even saw Sergeant Platt crack a smile at the sight of him walking through the entrance door. She may have a prickly persona but she was always a cop who had his six. Making his way upstairs to the office, he'd barely turned the corner on the stairs when he heard Halstead's voice calling out, "There he is." 

The small whistles and applause that followed made a smile grow on Antonio's face for the first time in over a week. The smile remained on his face even when the concerned voice of Olinsky called out, "Hey man what you doing back so soon?" 

"Oh god you sound like my wife." Antonio half joked, the call from earlier ringing through his mind. She'd tried to call him three more times since then, and each one he'd let ring out. He knew that if he answered he'd be shouting back almost immediately. 

Antonio stopped in front of Halstead, as the younger man smiled, "We got you a little welcome back slash glad you're not dead gift." 

"Don't say we never do anything for you," Antonio turned at Ruzek's voice, repressing a snort as Ruzek came limping towards him using a mobility frame. 

"That's hilarious," and it genuinely was; this was why he loved his team. They didn't try to mother him because of the injuries he'd sustained, instead they were there ready to take the piss. Turning back to Halstead, Antonio beckoned him with his hand, "Come on little bit closer." Behind him, he could hear Ruzek instantly shift all the blame.

"Oh you want some of this?" Halstead joked, as Antonio began making dummy boxing moves towards him. Antonio waited until Halstead was mimicking him, ready to indulge in a pretend fight, grabbing his chest directly over the bandage he still wore. Bending over in fake pain, Halstead moved closer, placing a hand around his back,"You okay?" The giggle that he let out informed Antonio that he knew that he was only pretending, and he couldn't help but join in with the laugh. 

"We're rolling out, five minutes." Antonio looking up at Voight's voice, his smile growing at the sight of the older man. He hadn't seen him since his release from hospital, and his heart thumped in his chest at the sight of the man in front of him. Grabbing Hank's hand, they shoulder bumped and clapped each other on the back; there standard greeting when there were others in the vicinity. "Glad you're back bro." Antonio muttered a 'Thanks', in response as he held onto Voight's hand for a moment longer than necessary . 

"Hey do me a favor, just work the desk for a few days. I don't want you dropping on me." Antonio's shoulder dropped at Voight's comment; desk work was just one step above staring at the ceiling. 

"No I'm fine. I'm suited up." He tried to reason as he shook his head. He was suited up in a sense; his bandages were just there to stop anything irritating the scabbed scar tissue. He also had a horrible tendency to scratch at the wound, so the bandages also offered an extra thick layer of protection that stopped him from aggravating the area. 

"Hey. Antonio, I'm not gonna argue with you about this." Staring into Voight's eyes, he could see the concern there. His words resonated within Antonio, combined with the small smile on the older man's face stopped Antonio from making a comment. He knew that if he said no to the desk work, Hank would relent and allow him to go out in the field. For Voight, he was willing to work the desk. 

"Alright," Antonio accepted, his heart filled with emotion as he watched Hank's smile widen, reaching his eyes. Receiving a small pat to the lower back in response, Antonio had to fight the urge to blush at how low the hand had been on his back; just a few small centimeters and it would have been a butt tap. He dropped down into his desk chair, watching as the rest of the team moved around his grabbing their gear to head out. He couldn't deny the smidge of reluctance as he watched them all walk down the stairs, but the one final smile that Voight offered him silenced the reluctance. 

*** 

Antonio had reached the Rehab Clinic to pick up Lindsay's CI, Nadia, with plenty of time. He'd not anticipated the roads to be as empty as they were and with the lack of traffic he was left with twenty minutes to wait. Pulling up outside, his phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that day; accepting the call he was instantly met with his wife's agitated voice. 

"Thank you, it took you long enough." Antonio sighed at Laura's voice, climbing out of the car as he held the phone against his ear. He hoped that standing in the street would stop him from shouting back at her; his parents had always taught him that it was disrespectful to shout at a woman, particularly to shout at your wife. In all the years of marriage, he had tried to live by that lesson; when they'd argue he would try to stay as calm as possible, taking out his anger with a trip to the boxing ring or the punch bag at the gym. There were times when he would shout, and he'd felt awful about it afterwards. 

"What do you want Laura?" 

"I think we need to take break from the city. Get away from it for a little while," Antonio let out the breath he had been holding. This was probably the first conversation they'd had in the last few days where they hadn't already been one or the other shouting. 

"That sounds good, maybe this weekend we could go somewhere-" 

Laura cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "I didn't mean for the weekend. I've been thinking that we could move out to Crystal Lake or something; you know where Megan lives." 

Antonio knew where Crystal Lakes was, and he was all too aware that it was where Laura's sister Megan lived with her family. He refused to remind Laura that neither him or Megan particularly liked one another, and whenever they'd gotten together with the families, either himself or Megan would say something that would piss the other off. "It's a bit of a drive to work, you can't really expect me to move somewhere that would take me an hour to drive to work everyday." 

"You should quit your job." Laura's words stunned Antonio, and he could think of nothing to say as he stared at the cars driving past him. His wife had honestly just asked him to quit the job he had been working towards for the last fifteen years. He had been twenty-two when he'd graduated the academy, and it had been his dream ever since that day to get into Investigations; and on the phone his wife was telling him to throw all the hard work away. On the other end of the phone, Laura was continuing speaking, "You could do what the doctor said and take it easy." 

"Yes I heard what the doctor said," Antonio shook his head throwing his hand up in the air in frustration at his wife's words. 

"Clearly not; he said you should be healing up. I hardly think going back to work is healing up!" She was shouting again now, and Antonio let out a sigh, his breath visible in the cold air. 

"Yes, this is me healing up. Doing my job, and not staring at the ceiling. Two things I love to do." Antonio retorted, he refused to explain to her that he was working behind the desk, knowing that she would use it against his statement. 

"He said you need to keep your stress levels down." 

"This is stressful. Arguing with you right now is stressful," Antonio snapped, his voice rising. He wished he'd have just declined the call like he'd done with the ones previously. Silence filled the phone conversation, and if Antonio couldn't still hear the breathing down the line he would have presumed that she'd hung up on him. He pulled his phone back to check that she'd not put the phone down, frowning as he saw that it was still connected. He was in no mood to pander to her at the moment, she obviously expected him to apologize for something he said. Hanging up the phone without saying another word, he caught sight of Lindsay's CI walking out of the rehab clinic. Time to deal with another argumentative woman. 

*** 

Returning to the office, with Nadia, Antonio had barely dropped his jacket onto the back of his chair when Halstead called over at him, "Hey, you're wife called." He just knew from the tone in Halstead's voice that the phone call had not been a pleasant one. You didn't need to be a detective to figure out she'd probably shouted or argued at Jay. Sighing loudly, Antonio toyed with the idea of calling her back, but he really didn't want to have to deal with an argument over the phone in the middle of the office. There was a line between his family and his work, and that concept very much crossed that figurative line. 

"You gonna call her back?" Antonio levelled a glare at Halstead; he was a worse gossip than an old woman. 

"No." His short and blunt answer made Halstead raise his eyebrows in response, but thankfully he didn't dare respond. 

*** 

Antonio was immersed in a file, half listening as the rest of the team were planning a meeting with a lead. He couldn't help but think that Atwater was already getting slightly too big for his freshly promoted boots; but he couldn't blame him either, he knew it was mainly from the excitement of making the top team. 

"What you got bro?" Voight's voice pulled him away from the paperwork. Antonio would have normally enjoyed any conversation he had with Hank but Laura had been trying to call him again, and the texts that he'd read from her had made him frustrated. She'd sent him links to property rentals in Crystal Lakes, and just looking at the pictures of the houses made Antonio see red. She was actually being serious with her suggestion of moving. 

Handing over one of the files that he'd already gone through, Antonio turned back to his current file as he spoke, "These are records of anyone with explosives trainings that recently got outta jail. I'm looking for any mentions of water gels and cords in their arrest records." 

Voight nodded along to his words as he flicked through the file that he'd been handed, "Alright keep looking." 

"What d'ya think I'm doing." Antonio snapped his voice raised, throwing his pen down onto the desk. He watched as Voight slowly turned back around to stare at him, silently waiting for the reason as to being snapped at. Antonio huffed, immediately feeling regret. He'd not intended to take his frustrations out on Voight, and it wasn't fair of Antonio to vent like that. He lowered his voice as he explained, "It's Laura, she nearly flipped when I told her I was coming back to work." 

"What does she expect you to do?" 

Antonio shrugged his shoulder, at Hank's question. He honestly had no idea what she truly expected from him right now; "She wants me to move out to Crystal Lake near her sister" 

"She's been through a lot, your whole family has." Voight reasoned softly, and Antonio didn't know what he was meant to say in response. It would have been easier if Voight had just sided with him and agreed that Laura's demands were beyond ridiculous. But hearing Voight trying to make him understand where was coming from, just made it more difficult for Antonio to even consider. 

"I know... but- " The words caught in Antonio's throat, he wanted to say the truth. He wanted to say so many things. He didn't want to leave Chicago. He didn't want to leave his sister. He didn't want to quit his job. He didn't want to leave Voight. 

"I hear you." Hank smiled softly, hitting Antonio shoulder with the file before he walked away. Antonio stared after him for a moment, dropping his head into his hands so he could massage his temples. He wondered if Voight could hear just how in love Antonio was with him. 

*** 

Antonio supposed it didn't help in an argument if you pull a double shift and don't warn your wife about it. The lights were off in his house, no lights shining through any of  
the windows. Unlocking the front door, Antonio stepping inside, calling out as he did, "Hey guys, dad's home." Flipping on the hallway lights, Antonio frowned at the silence that greeted him. Dropping his keys into the bowl by the door, he paused as he saw the lights in the family room were off, and the kitchen lights which they always left on were also dark. 

Panic spread through him, as he stomped through the downstairs of the house, turning on every ceiling light as he passed through the rooms. "Laura? Guys?" He called out, the silence bearing no answer to any of his calls. It wasn't late enough for any of them to be in bed, but it was too late for them to be out of the house. Had someone taken his family? He was a cop, he'd had kidnap threats before; and the memory of Diego's kidnapping was still a fresh wound in his memory. 

He paused as he stepped into the kitchen, an envelope with his name on it sat on the table waiting. Antonio frowned as he pulled out the paper inside, dropping into a seat as he read the words in front of him. 

 

_Antonio,_

_I can't do this anymore. I don't know when you're going to come home. Some days I don’t even know if you're ever going to come home. Twice now I've had some cop turn up on my doorstep to tell me that you've been shot. I can't keep putting myself or the kids through that._

_Recently I've been wondering if I'm even enough for you anymore. You keep secret's from me. The first I heard about Pulpo being released was by Erin telling me he'd shot you. I know there is something else that you're not telling me, you need to figure that out before we can even have a conversation about our future._

_I'm leaving you, I have taken the kids, and we're staying in Crystal Lakes with my sister. Don't follow us and don't try to contact us. I love you, but I don't think that's enough anymore._

_Laura_

Antonio leaned back in the chair, the paper scrunching in his fist as he reread the words. Tears began to fall as he brought his hand over his mouth. The hand did nothing to stop the noise of his sobs from filling the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very interesting chapter to write; cause I generally stick my comment that I refuse to believe Laura left Antonio just cause he got shot, (again). But yes, she now knows.
> 
> Enter a great deal of relationship development, and destruction in the next chapter. Depending on how much I write, the next chapter will be the last or the second to last chapter. I just keep adding chapters to this fic >


	6. Chapter 6

Antonio stretched his legs out across the full width of his bed, the amount of space confused him for a moment before Laura's letter flashed through his mind. He'd spent the last fifteen years on the very edge of the bed, and now the amount of space unsettled him. He had crawled into bed the night before after staring at the contents of the letter for nearly an hour. He didn’t know what he should do, and had spent half the night in a fitful state, tossing and turning; he'd contemplated trying to call Laura's mobile but immediately changed his mind on that idea. Her words were clear, and he doubted she'd react well to him calling her right now. It had probably been around three in the morning when Antonio decided that it was probably for the best if he allowed his wife to calm down for a few days. They'd needed some time apart, and maybe this would be the opportunity for them to have that. A small nudge of doubt whispered in the back of his mind as he'd slowly drifted off to sleep however; Did he really want to work his relationship issues out? 

Lying in an empty king size bed the next morning, the answer to that question was in all honesty, 'no'. Waking up alone was strange, but Antonio found that he didn't miss Laura sleeping next to him. Maybe it was because for the last few months he'd been secretly pining to wake up next to someone else. 

He hated that his house was empty of the usual noise that greeted him in the morning though. Today the kids weren't arguing about who finished off the CocoPuffs, Laura wasn't shouting at the kids to get ready, Eva wasn't shouting back at her mother, and Diego wasn't being shouted at for oversleeping. Any other morning, Antonio would do anything to avoid at least one of those noises; but now that they were gone he missed them. He didn't miss any of the arguments, petty or serious; but even after one day he missed having his kids around him. 

The sheets twisted around Antonio's waist as he crawled out of the bed; the sunlight steamed in through the open curtains, the winter sunshine bathing the bedroom in brightness. How could it be such a lovely day outside when inside Antonio felt like his world had just caved in on itself. The thought of his team finding out about his family situation made his stomach feel like it was being twisted like his sheets. He could already imagine the pitying looks he'd receive; Halstead and Lindsay would be the worst, he would just have to turn to look at them, and their faces would be a mask of pity. Atwater and Ruzek would mean well, but would merely end up annoying him. Olinsky's face would be as calm and collected as it always was on the outside, but the older man would try to offer support in private. He'd been in Antonio's place, knew all too well what it was like to have a wife leave. The difference was, Antonio wasn't even willing to consider living in the garage in an attempt to maintain the happy family dynamic. Did that say something about who he was? Did he not love his family enough to even try? 

Antonio pushed that thought out of his mind as he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to wash the unpleasant thoughts down the drain. He loved his children. Just because he wasn't willing to concede to Laura's current ideas didn't mean he didn't love Eva and Diego with all of his heart. Standing under the spray of the shower, there was only one reaction he couldn't decipher. He had no idea how Hank would react to the news Laura had left him. Antonio momentarily let a scenario play out in his head, imagining Voight's arms wrapping themselves around his waist, being pulled against his chest, being kissed the same way they'd kissed all those months before in the office kitchen. Two kisses and he was obsessed. Antonio couldn't deny that, and he also knew that it didn’t help his growing lack of romantic emotion towards the woman who was supposed to be his wife. 

*** 

Stepping into the office on the first morning felt like a challenge; Antonio was poised on a knife edge, expecting someone to ask about Laura or the kids. When no one did, the anxiety continued, and he felt his heart race slightly faster every time someone tried to talk to him. He was grateful that he was still on desk duty; anxiety and police work were two things that didn't tend to mix well together. As the days went by, with no questions being asked, Antonio slowly began to relax. He could continue pretending that everything was okay. 

It had been over a week since Laura had left, and with every morning that passed, Antonio was slowly getting used to the empty house he woke up to. It still broke his heart looking through some of the rooms and seeing nearly all of Eva and Diego's possessions. He had tears in his eyes when he noticed the small stuffed rabbit that remained in Eva's bedroom; the toy had been with her since she was a baby. She had gone to sleep with it every night for thirteen years, and finding out that it had been forgotten made Antonio want to break every speeding law in the country to drive to see his kids. He couldn't even begin to imagine the frantic speed Laura had left with the kids. 

They had a rare day where there were no cases that required Intelligences assistance, forcing them all to sit at their desks going through paperwork and cold cases. Antonio hated these sorts of days regardless, but today he hated them ten times more; the coffee machine was once again broken, so the team were being forced to make hourly trips to Starbucks just to focus. Out of the corner of his eye he could feel Voight's gaze from across the office. It just confirmed Antonio's idea that Voight had a sixth sense concerning the team. 

* 

At lunchtime, Voight had a plan in mind. A cold case day was something no one on the team enjoyed, in honesty, Voight doubted any police officer liked having to go back through benched cases. It was frustrating having to look back on the cases that ended in dead ends; it was rare that they ever found any new information. They were only half way through the day but he could always see the agitation that was reeling off of Antonio. Something had been off with Antonio ever since he had returned to work, and Voight had every reason to believe it was nothing to do with what had occurred with Pulpo. 

Stepping into the main office, Voight crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe to his office. "Halstead, go with Lindsay to Starbucks and get us some more coffee. Ruzek, you and Atwater go to the Chinese takeaway and pick up some lunch." It didn't take much for the four to jump up at his words, anything to get out of the office for a little while. Voight could trust Olinsky to make himself scarce without being told. 

Once the office emptied out, Voight slowly moved over to Antonio's desk, perching on the edge of the desk as he stared down at the younger man. "Is everything okay?"  
Antonio shrugged half heartedly in response, leading Voight to sigh in retort. "You know I'm here if you need to talk bro." Hank continued, gently squeezing Antonio shoulder. Neither of them commented on how his hand lingered there; no one else was left in the office, so there was nobody who could see the shift between the two men. Voight adjusted his hand so that it was resting against the back of Antonio's neck, smiling softly when Antonio leaned backwards into the touch. There was an emotion hidden in Antonio's eyes in that moment, which Voight couldn't place. It was almost like a helpless plea that was shining through, and Voight didn't know if there was anything he could do to fix it. He didn't want to push for information, he was far too attached to jeopardize Antonio's trust to do that. 

Voight dropped his hand at the sound of the gate at the bottom of the stairs opening, offering a small smile as Halstead and Lindsay's voices echoed up into the office. He hadn't expected them to be so fast, he had admittedly hoped that they'd get stuck behind the sort of customer traffic that he normally encountered. A queue most likely formed behind them whilst they ordered though; there was nothing slower than ordering seven different coffees to be made. Antonio's coffee order was the worst when it came to ordering out. They had always used to joke with Jules about her coffee order, saying it was the most complicated in the district. Antonio's had been the second most complicated. 

"One Tall Non-Fat Latte with Caramel Drizzle, and you have no idea how awkward that is to order." Halstead smirked as he set the cup down in front of Antonio, handing Voight his regular black coffee at the same time. Voight had to resist a snort at the hand gesture Antonio retorted with. He knew from experience that was one of the less fussier orders that Antonio could have asked for. 

* 

Atwater and Ruzek's return with the Chinese food had everyone waiting in the kitchenette as the containers of food were spread out across the small table. There was a mass of containers, more than enough for a team of seven; Antonio knew that any leftovers wouldn't last a week in the fridge. Judging from past experiences, there probably wouldn't be any leftovers left by tomorrow. Placing some of a chicken dish onto his plate, Antonio moved to sit on the counter, laughing as he watched Ruzek fill up his plate. The officer was thinking with his stomach not his brain and Antonio knew that there would be no way Ruzek would be able to eat all the food that was on his plate. 

Stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork, Antonio snorted as he saw Voight steal a spring roll from underneath Ruzek's fork. His snort shifted into full laughter as Voight chuckled, "You finish all that, and maybe you can have a spring roll." Taking a bite out of the chicken, Antonio had to resist the urge to laugh at the pout that formed on the young officers face. As he continued to eat, Antonio became aware of a slight tingling in his mouth; glancing at his plate he tried to decipher if the tingling was coming from a spice that was on his food. The small hypochondriac in him made Antonio pause, "Yo, Ruzek. What sort of chicken is this?" 

"Atwater picked it. I think it's just sliced chicken in Oyster sauce. Why?" Antonio froze, his fork dropping onto his plate at Ruzek's words. Almost instantly he swore he could feel his throat tightening; he didn't know if it was just from the sudden surge of anxiety that was pumping through his body or if it genuinely was an anaphylaxis reaction. Dropping his plate onto the counter beside him, Antonio lunged from his seat. He ran at his desk, fingers scrabbling at the drawer as he searched for the injectable Epinephrine that he'd always kept in there. 

He was aware of Voight following after him, and when he was pushed backwards into his desk chair, Antonio allowed himself to fall into the seat. His breath rasped in his throat as Voight located the EpiPen; Antonio could do nothing but watch as Voight activated the device quickly, and slammed the tip against his thigh. Antonio heard the click and felt the sting as the needle penetrated through the material of his jeans and punctured his skin. Voight was knelt down beside him, one hand holding the EpiPen in place, and the other gently massaging Antonio's knee. Already Antonio could feel the rush of adrenaline through his system, as his labored breathing eased up. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the kitchenette as they watched the situation that was occurring on the office floor. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Voight gently massaged the injection site with his fingers. He wasn't embarrassed by the touch, but he hated how everyone were now staring at them. 

"You good to go?" Voight's soft voice filled Antonio's ears. Nodding in response, Antonio allowed himself to be eased out of the chair, one of Voight's arms wrapping around his waist. He was good to stand but he appreciated the touch. Antonio ignored everyone else as he was slowly aided down the stairs, he barely registered Voight telling the rest of the team that they were going to the hospital. 

 

Having Voight unnecessarily helping him with every step, Antonio couldn't help but feel the familiar shame that came every time his allergy reared it's ugly head. He remembered the first time he'd ever had an allergic reaction; he'd been nine years old and before that day, no one had any idea. They had all been invited to his aunt's house, and practically force fed seafood paella. Neither Antonio or his parents realized what was happening at first; the thought of an allergy had never even been considered before, and it was probably only being a fussy eater for so many years that had kept the allergy hidden for so long. That day he had his worst allergic reaction. Since then he had only had five reactions, today being his sixth. 

Antonio couldn't stop the small sting of embarrassment that buzzed in his mind. He hated his bodies intolerance, but as Voight gently guided him into the A+E department of Chicago Med, Antonio felt his emotions shift away from the embarrassment. He was grateful, not for his allergy, but for just how good a man Hank Voight was. Underneath the disguise that Voight wore, there was a genuine caring, loving man, and at that moment, Antonio was sure the rest of the world could see it too. Voight had carefully deposited Antonio in one of chairs in the reception, before rushing over to the main desk to explain what had happened. Antonio knew that he'd be seen pretty quickly; none of the staff were going to risk letting any complications arise from the allergic reaction. 

"Do you want me to call Laura for you?" Voight's asked as they were waiting to be called through. Antonio felt himself freeze in his seat; he had managed to go over a week without his wife entering the conversation, and to have the question directed at him now, he didn't know how to respond. He could say one of a thousand different responses. He could lie and tell Voight that he'd tell her at home. He could say it was nothing to worry about, and he didn't want to upset Laura. Or he could simply tell the truth. 

"No, she urgh... She left. Left me, She kind of left me." Antonio found himself mumbling. As the words left his mouth, he felt a small weight begin to ease off his shouder's, as he bared his secret. He couldn't bring himself to look at Voight though, the ground holding his interest as he fidgeted his hands. He could feel his bosses eyes burning into him, and of all the things he was anticipating he didn't expect Voight to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Glancing up he found himself caught in Voight's stare. Antonio wanted to say something, he also wanted to close the small gap between them and kiss the man in front of him. 

The doctor calling his name was probably the only thing that stopped him from doing just that; he was simultaneously grateful and annoyed as he stood up to head into one of the examination rooms. He was grateful, as the doctor had indirectly saved him from being falling to a new level of class. 'Oh my wife's left me, now we can finally act on that kiss we had four month ago, and the other kiss we had less than a month ago.' But the annoyance was that regardless of how badly timed it would have been, Antonio still wanted to kiss Voight. 

*** 

After he was given the all clear, and directed on his way by the doctors with a fresh EpiPen in his pocket, Antonio was surprised to see Voight still sat waiting for him in the reception. He hadn't been kept long, an hour at maximum, but for some reason Antonio hadn't expected Voight to sit and wait. He was happy that he had though, and he couldn't fight the small smile that filled his face as Voight drove him home. They sat in silence for the entire drive back, both seemingly distracted by their own thoughts. As the car crawled to a stop outside of his house, Antonio turned slightly in his seat, "Do you want to come in for a while?" 

Antonio saw the momentary hesitation flicker across Voight's face, "If you're sure?" Nodding in response, Antonio opened the car door, casually walking towards his house with the other man following a step behind. There was a nervousness that made Antonio's breath catch in his throat. He knew that once they stepped through the front door, neither of them knew where the situation would lead. 

It felt oddly strange to walk into his house with Voight behind him; there was a tension between them, and it reminded Antonio of the tension that had filled the room when they had kissed In the office kitchen. There was only a few inches between them as they stood in the hallway, but as Antonio went to close the gap between them he found himself stop. He didn't know what Voight would think of him, and at that moment he decided he didn't care. Antonio cupped his hand around the back of Voight's neck, as he closed the space between them. The kiss was a combination of the two kisses that they'd had in the past. There was a pinch of gentleness like the one they had shared in the hospital room after Pulpo, but it was combined with the desperate need from their first kiss. Voight's hands were clutching at Antonio's hips, fingers digging into the skin hard enough to leave marks. 

The kiss broke, and they remained pressed against each other. Antonio could feel Voight's breath tickling his lips, and it made him smile softly. "Are you sure about this?" Voight asked, his lips a hairswidth away from Antonio's. 

"I want to, but-" 

"I don't want to push you into something you don't want to do." Voight cut through Antonio's words. 

"Hank, I want this. Just I think we need to take it slowly," Antonio finished, pulling back from the embrace slightly so that he could see the smile fill Voight's face. They both nodded in agreement, accepting that they were finally going to start acting upon the romantic friendship that had been between them since their first kiss. Antonio felt light, and though he still missed his family, he felt happier than he had for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bloody thing put up a fist fight with me. I do apologize, this chapter is not my finest and I am the first to acknowledge that!
> 
> But I got there in the end, and it was meant to be longer; I had initially planned for this to be a six chaptered fic, but apparently when I'm not looking the chapters start breeding so it's going to be a bit longer than just six chapters now. There is so much left in my mental plan for this fic.
> 
> But Antonio, I feel like I'm bullying him slighty. I was just watching back on the episode, "Assignment of the Year," and I wanted to include something about Antonio's allergy, and also the slightly abrasive response he gave when Olinsky brought it up. This is how him having an allergic reaction in the middle of the office came about Not a nice experience, and I can only assume it would probably be a slightly embarrasing one. Don't have an allergy, (touch wood) so please let me know if I fucked up any information about them. 
> 
> But yes I hope you enjoy, and I'm gonna go fight with the next update.


End file.
